


welcome to starbucks may i take your order

by thefrictioninyourjeans



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:44:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefrictioninyourjeans/pseuds/thefrictioninyourjeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>imagine being one of thousands of people running around with "welcome to starbucks may i take your order" tattooed from birth going into a starbucks like "is it you????"<br/>frank really fucking hates it.<br/>Or, in which gerard is a barista and everybody has their soulmate's first words tattooed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	welcome to starbucks may i take your order

**Author's Note:**

> first fic-ish thing. hope it's ok  
> written from a tumblr prompt
> 
> EDIT: 100 kudos omg
> 
> EDIT: 1k ppl read this what the fuck is my liFE

There are a lot of jobs in the food chain of shit poor college students can do. Working at a starbucks is fairly decent, Gerard thinks. At least he gets free coffee, even if he does have to get up way too fucking early, and, like, socialise.  
High school sucked, as it does, and then he got out and went to SVA and that was cool for like a month before he realised that it’s still school. And sure, he really fucking loves the art classes but the homework makes him work hard in a way that he’s never had to before.  
And college is fucking expensive, so he got the job as a barista and every day he says the same fucking sentence.  
“Welcome to starbucks, may I take your order.”  
And the worst, the absolute fucking worst is when their faces light up and they look at their tattoos and they think holy shit it’s the one but it never is. He’s still waiting for his person to show up and order a “motherfucking double espresso shot, unless you have anything stronger.”  
Which, admittedly, is kind of hard to forget, and really hard to hear by accident.  
And every day, Gerard has to look people in the eyes and tell them that he’s not their barista, that this is not their starbucks.  
He really should quit, he thinks, but the only other option is pizza delivery and he doesn’t have a car.  
There’s also the whole thing about meeting his soulmate while he works in a coffee shop, but he likes to tell himself that’s not why he stays.  
—————  
When Frank was finally able to read the writing on his wrist, he was really fucking confused because what the hell is starbucks. His mom said to wait a few years and he would know what it meant. Frank was never really one to dwell, so he just went with it and moved on. And when starbucks was on the rise, he tried it out and was pleased, because at least he would meet his soulmate in a place that served decent coffee.  
And he learned that he liked the way that the ink looked on his skin, soulmate or no soulmate, so he ran with it, and kept going as soon as he got old enough.  
Some days he was pissed, sure, that his words were so fucking generic, but to be fair Frank was pissed about a lot of things, and he channeled that into his band, and then his second one when the first one imploded. It sucked how high schoolers could never really keep a band together, but whatever. Frank knows that when he does get a proper band together, it’s going to be fucking awesome.  
And he does. And he’s just out of high school and he has shows booked, this is so fucking awesome, and he gets to go to new york city but he maybe drank too much last night and now he has to get shit done and it sucks.  
And when he spots the starbucks, the writing on his wrist is the furthest thing from his mind.  
—————  
Gerard is hanging nearing the end of his shift, thank god, and the other barista, Pete (who should really have a limit on how many mochas he can drink while working, jesus fucking christ), is trying to get him to play this stupid game.  
“C’mon, dude, all you have to do is find one customer you would fuck.”  
“why, pete”  
“‘cuz if you do, I’ll leave you alone.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes at this. “Like hell you will. You’re just going to go off and call Patrick.”  
“That’s leaving you alone, isn’t it.”  
Gerard sighs. That’s the thing with talking to Pete, you can never really win.  
“Fine.” He snaps, and glances around the shop. There’s some little punk dude coming in, with weird bangs and a very obvious hangover. He points. “That one.”  
Pete laughs and bounces off.  
Gerard turns back to the counter. He pastes on a smile, because Gerard is fucking excellent at customer service.  
“Welcome to starbucks, may I take your order.”  
Cute punk dude raises an eyebrow. “motherfucking double espresso shot, unless you have anything stronger.”  
“Wait, holy fuck. You’re..” he trails off, not sure how to react because this is his fucking soulmate, what are you supposed to do. He kind of wants to lean over the counter and kiss him but instead he asks the dude’s name.  
“Frank.” The dude, Frank, tilts his head, and Gerard idly wonders if he ever goes by Frankie and also what it would be like to kiss his scorpion tattoo or maybe draw it.  
“So are you planning to get my coffee, or…?”  
Fuck, nobody told Gerard that it was going to be like this. It’s supposed to be romantic, dammit. This isn’t right at all.  
Gerard holds up his wrist for the dude to see.  
“Shit.” Says the guy.  
“Agreed” Says Gerard.  
—————  
10 minutes later they’re out on the street, cracking up, and Gerard is out of a job.  
Fired for making out at work?  
So worth it.


End file.
